Seeing Spots
by TheGreenNGoldAvenger
Summary: Word about a newcomer in Manhattan has drifted over to Brooklyn, that somehow concerns Spot. He decides to go over see for himself. This really does concern Spot Conlon. Both of them. Written for Newsies Pape Selling Competition. Total Word Count: 7,264
1. Chapter 1

**This is written for Circulation Two of the Newsies Pape Selling Competition representing my Newsies of Brooklyn! The theme is that the movie version of a character meets their musical counterpart. Mine is Spot meeting Spot in theater using the prompt "You don't know what you're doing, do you?" Current WC:2797**

Border Patrol was never fun. Especially when you have much better things to do. Like being king of Brooklyn, just as an example.

Spot Conlon sighed and hooked his thumbs in his bright red suspenders. How he got stuck with the North Brooklyn Patrol beats him. _Ain't I the one that makes other people do this stuff?_ He really hoped he would see some Queens trespassers so he would be able to do something.

Fortunately and also unfortunately, there was no disturbance from Brooklyn's neighbors to the north. His sweep started in the east, and headed across the borough westwards, towards Manhattan, stopping hallway there.

As Spot finished the route, he headed back towards the docks to meet up with the other patrols.

The ten or so boys gathered around the Nest, delivering their own news.

"Statin seems quiet."

"Doesn't look like much in the Bronx."

"My half of Queens was boring, Spot."

"Mine too. What about 'Hattan?"

"Not sure. Something seems fishy, though."

That caught Spot's attention. Nothing suspicious ever happened in Manhattan. Ever since the strike, the two boroughs have been good allies. The only Manhattanites who entered Brooklyn were either Racetrack or Jack. Jack, to check up on them, and Race to see if Spot fancied a game of poker. "What exactly did you hear?"

"Nothing much. Said dey found a new guy."

"So what? Dat happens all da time."

"Can't be sure, but I hoird something about you."

Spot's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I think den I'm gonna pay Jacky-boy a visit tonight. Youse all is dismissed." The boys darted back towards shore, grabbing the papers they each had left in hopes of selling them before it became too late in the day. The sun had already hit his high point and had just started his slow dissent towards the sea.

He managed to sell the rest of the few papers he had bought from that morning, yet his mind was elsewhere.

Once the fleeting sun turned the sky bright orange, Spot left Rook in charge and headed off to Manhattan. His hand rested on the handle of his walking stick as he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan. Spot walked the path that he knew well from the days of the strike.

He brushed his dark blond hair out of his face when the cold wind decided that his hair would actually look best in front of his eyes. He was a few blocks away when the lampposts seemed to sway in front of him. Spot's feet tried to compensate for the world rocking, but he still fell against a shop wall. His hand rested on the wood, trying to steady himself. By looking around, he saw that no one else was affected by this. With a deep breath, he pushed himself back into an upright position and kept walking.

It didn't take long to arrive at their Lodging House. Kloppman gave an acknowledging nod towards him then gestured to the commons; Spot guessed that's where everyone was.

As he entered, he saw that everyone was gathered around a table, or more specifically, one person sitting at that table. _Must be dis new guy_. He couldn't see much from where he stood, only that he looked on the older side of newies, and had dark brown hair.

A few of the boys he knew looked up, including Jack, who jumped up. He quickly walked over and pushed him gently into the hallway. Spot's eyes widened at this treatment. This is just what he was worried about, Manhattan _was_ hiding something! "What's goin' on 'ere?" Spot demanded to know.

Jack spoke very quickly, "Oh, dis? Dis is nuthin'. Ey, we gotta go. Wese got tickets at Irving Hall for tonight. Boots can't make so we have an extra. Wanna come?"

Spot blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around the flurry of language that just issued out of Jack's mouth. "Uh…"

"We can talk afterwoirds. I promise."

"Alright den." Spot shrugged off the hand that still rested on his shoulder.

Jack smiled and turned to yell into the commons, "C'mon, wese gonna be late!" All the other boys streamed out onto the street, too fast for Spot to see the newcomer.

Spot ended up at the end of the procession to Irving Hall with Crutchy. He didn't mind slowing down a bit for him, he always was good for conversation.

"I'm so glad, well, I t'ink wese all glad that you could come tonight. I know it's gonna be a real treat." Spot didn't push the subject even thought his stomach felt like something in between queasy and just plain nervous.

They arrived at Irving Hall five minutes before the show started, so pretty much everyone was already seated. Spot had the ticket Jack had handed him and went inside. Even though they got their tickets beforehand, it's was still fairly last minute, so the group was divided into three to four sections. Spot was with Jack and Race towards the front and off to the right, and who knows where they rest of them got off to.

Spot turned to Jack. "So, who is dat guy?"

The lights started to dim and Jack put a finger to his lips. "Shh… I'll tell ya later, like I said." Spot almost growled and sunk into his chair in silent fuming.

He could barely pay attention to the show, which was nice, as always. Wasn't fantastic, as you'd expect. It was Vaudeville. Medda did a solo number at the end which was beautiful. She was wearing her dark pink, almost lavender dress with frills at the bottom. Her curly red hair was in a graceful twirl on top of her head.

When it finally finished and the applause ended, the lights came up and folks began leaving. "Alright," Spot started before Jack could get away. "Who is dat?" Race sniggered behind him.

"Well, I thinks you should talk wit him youse self." Jack saw and nodded at the rest of the group made their way towards the three of them. "G'night, Spot." Jack laughed softly and left. Race slinked his way past him as well, touching a finger to the brim of his cap.

All the other boys followed the two out of the auditorium, leaving only Spot and the new guy. They both had hands in their pockets and heads slightly tipped. The newcomer looked around 17, maybe 18. He was wearing a short-sleeved dark red shirt over a wide chest, black suspenders, and long black pants.

The blond walked up to the brunette and stuck out his hand.

"Spot Conlon." He said. The other boy shook his hand

"Spot Conlon." The other responded.

"Come again?"

"You hoird me, Spot Conlon."

"But _I'm_ Spot Conlon."

"So am I."

Spot, the first one, put his head in his hand. "I'm so confused."

The second one pursed his lips and set his jaw. "'Ow do you t'ink _I_ felt? Before your Jack tried to help me."

The blond looked up. "My Jack? He ain't mine. I live out in Brooklyn."

"He's more yours dan mine."

Spot, the blond one, looked to the side and saw Jack in the shadow of an archway. "Jack Kelly, get over here right now!" He yelled, and pointed towards the floor by his feet.

Snickering, he complied. "Heya, Spot."

"Which one?" Spot grumbled. "You don't know what you're doing, do you?"

"Oh yeah, so, um. To keeps things easier, I'll call you," he pointed to the blond, "Spot. And you," he pointed to the other one, "Conlon." ( **AN: I'm going to do that as well)**

"Well ain't you creative." They both responded sarcastically, and then grinned at each other.

"Did youse introduce Conlon to the rest of your boys yet?"

"Yeah, well. He came to us." Jack responded.

"I don't wish to offend you, but where did you come from?" Spot asked.

"I came from Brooklyn." Conlon crossed his arms.

Spot bristled. Jack gently stepped in between the two. "Here's what I think happened: He's from a parallel universe." Spot stared at him in disapproval. "I'm serious! What else could it be?"

"So many things, Jacky-boy. How old is youse? Ten?" Spot sighed and rest his head in his hand. "What do you think of this?" He asked Conlon.

He shrugged. "I don't know what else could be possible. This New York looks different than mine. Enough is similar, but some things just ain't right."

"So, where you come from, you're Spot Conlon?"

"Ay, I still am!" Conlon's brow furrowed. "Can we takes dis somewhere else? I think wese gettinn' some attention." His gaze shifted to the stage, where Medda was hurrying towards them.

"What are you boys still doing in here? If you're gonna fight, please don't use my theater again. You caused enough damage last time." She softly scolded.

Jack brought his hat to his chest. "You wouldn't kick us out, would ya, Medda?" She playfully smacked him with her folded up fan.

Spot laughed. "C'mon Jack, we best get going. And c'mon, Conlon, man is that weird to say." He muttered to himself and stuck his hands in his pockets.

Conlon shook his head and followed Spot out, who was nearly dragging Jack behind him. "My Jack ain't anywhere as clingy as dis." He added as Jack whimpered, "Nor dis sentimental."

The three boys wandered the city, slowly zigzagging their way back to the Lodging House.

"So, do youse remember anything before you got here? Like, what da heck happened?" Spot began as Jack became self-reliant again.

He only shook his head. "I was heading back to da docks, passed an alleyway, saw this bright, blueish flash, and then I was on the Brooklyn Bridge. Your Brooklyn Bridge. For some reason, it made more sense to go to Manhattan. I had only just got to their lodging house when Jack announced they were going to da Vaudeville, didn't really get to talk to dem much. Only got through basic introductions. Introductions being only Jack and mineself. I didn't even know about you 'till we were halfway to the theater." He shrugged and kept walking.

Spot pursed his lips. "And I thought the day was normal."

Jack laughed as they walked up the steps to the Lodging House and entered the commons. "Let's play a game. And by let's, I mean youse." He pointed to Conlon as a crowd of newsies surrounded them. "So, all my newsies would be in your world, too?"

"I would suppose so. But I neva really got to know Jacky's boys."

"Alright. We'll start easy." Jack grabbed Crutchy and showed him to Conlon.

"Crutchie! Hey, I like da hair."

"Thanks!"

"How about dis one?"

"Specs! Dis ain't dat hard."

Jack then grabbed Boots. "Uh…I'm not sure. Mush?"

"Mush!? Dis is Boots."

"Boots? I've neva hoird of a Boots before."

"Well, dat's Mush." Jack pointed towards Mush who greeted Conlon with his warm smile.

"Huh. Guess there's some differences after all."

Game all done, a few of them introduced themselves. Conlon didn't recognize anyone. It was so weird. Seeing some people with the same name, but a different face, yet with similar personalities.

"Race?" Conlon asked, looking through the people.

"Where?" Jack peered through the group. "Racetrack?" He called.

Racetrack jumped up. "Yeah?" He made his way over, unlit cigar in between his fingers. "How'd you recognize me?"

"I…I thought you were the Race I knew. You looked like him, just for a second." Conlon swallowed. "You were blond."

Race overdramatically gasped. "What is da world coming to? Me, blond? I have never been anything but dis my entire life." He grabbed a handful of his dark brown hair.

"Sorry," Conlon said, "Must be gettin' tired."

"It's okay. It's getting late anyway. Get ta bed, people. S' going to be a weird day tomorrow." Jack shrugged as the boys made their way to the bunks. "Where are you going ta go?" He turned towards Conlon, who looked lost.

Conlon faced Jack. "Could I stay here?"

"O'course. Just thought you might have wanted to go to Brooklyn."

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay here." He turned to Spot. "No offense."

Spot shook his head. "You're good. I think I'll stay here too, Jacky-boy."

Jack nodded and headed off, leaving the two Spots alone.

"This might sound weird…" Conlon started.

"Oh really? 'Cause I've never heard weird stuff before."

"Shut up, I ain't finished." Spot snickered and motioned for Conlon to continue. "You remember when I saw Race and said he was blond. Well, he was blond. My Race is blond. It was him, just for a second, but it _was_ him. I think this, break in between our realities, is becoming bigger. People are slipping back and forth. Switching, flickering like an old lightbulb."

Spot stood in silence as this explanation washed over him. It seemed impossible. But a lot of these things have been happening lately, so not that much can surprise him anymore. With a deep breath, Spot spoke. "Well, I ain't gettin' _any_ sleep tonight."

Conlon chuckled. "Neither am I. I don't think I could until we get dis all figured out."

"We needs smart people."

Conlon's head snapped up. "What about dat… dat… Davey guy? Ain't he pretty brainy?"

"Yeah, David might know sumthin'." Spot crossed his arms and pursed his lips in concentration. "I'll talk to Jack tomorrow to see if we can all meet up. Ha, see if we can explain this to him."

A small laugh was heard across from the boy in red suspenders. "I…don't think you need ta worry about it." Conlon grinned.

"Wh…" Spot began, then realized. "You guys told David, too? Was I the last poirson ta know about dis?" He took several steps forward with dark eyes.

He held up his hands defensively. "Wasn't my idea. I thought you shoulda been told foirst. I know that's what I woulda wanted, so it must be true for you as well." He shrugged.

"Yeah. Can't get mad at youse. That's just weird." Spot's head still churned with the thought of there being another him. His vision swam and there seemed to be nothing he could do about the worn carpet rushing towards his face.

Groaning, Spot rolled onto his back after the impact with the floor. Conlon was kneeling at his side, dark brown eyes filled with concern. "Did you feel it, too?" He asked as he helped the blond to the couch.

"Felt what?" His voice sounded scratchy.

"I think you know what. Like bein' dizzy. Suddenly, no warnin' at all."

"Yeah. It's happened before. When I was on my way here from Brooklyn." Spot remembered when he fell against the building. He thought it was a gentle earthquake, because no one else felt it. But this time wasn't an earthquake at all. This one was so much more. "You said something like you felt it, too."

Conlon gravely nodded. "Not even a second after you collapsed, I felt lightheaded. Your fall was just enough warning for me to sit down so I wouldn't fall as far."

"Glad I'm so helpful." Spot pursed his lips. "Since wese da same poirson, figuratively speakin', does dat mean wese kinda, connected?"

"Maybe. Dat might be fun ta test." Conlon got a wicked grin. Spot copied the smile knowingly. "Let's set aside dis problem for a while." Conlon extended a hand to help Spot up.

Spot led the way to bunks where he had spent a few nights during the strike. The found two empty bunks in opposite corners and settled in for the night.

 **Thanks for reading! I'll have the next chapter up in a few days!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Current Word Count: 4343. I still don't own Newsies, in either world.**

Conlon was jolted into the waking world by a pounding in his head. As he jackknifed to a sitting position, he caught out of the corner of his eye that Spot had done just the same. They turned towards each other, and confirmed that the same thing had happened to the both of them. "I'm neva gonna get used to dis." Conlon shuddered as Spot walked over to sit on the foot of his bed.

A huge sigh escaped Spot as he shook his head. "Hope we can talk to David today, see if he got anyt'ing." Conlon nodded in agreement.

Only a few minutes later, the rest of the boys began waking up. Jack went up to the Spots, "What's da plan of da day?" He asked.

"See if we can speak ta Davey. He's quick, maybe he got something." Conlon informed him.

Jack tilted his chin up. "I can walk youse over there. It's Saturday, so he ain't at school today. Should be home." He left to let them get ready. Spot desperately hoped that David would have some sort of answer. It's not that he didn't like Conlon, but he really needed to get back to his own world.

Conlon finished and headed into the commons to wait for Spot. Spot hooked his cane in his belt loop and walked towards the common room. He heard a cry from the room before he got there, "Crutchie!?" Spot ran down the last few steps to the voice. He saw what the cry was about. Standing in the middle of the room, was a boy leaning on a crutch, but the boy looked different. First of all, he had blond, scruffy hair. He had green eyes and was a little shorter than the Crutchy that Spot knew.

"Spot? What's happening?" The boy looked to Conlon helplessly.

"I don't know, Crutchie. Wese working on it. Tell the others that I'm fine, will ya?" Conlon stepped towards him and held out his arms, palms up.

He nodded, and with a smile that would melt your heart, took a few hobbled steps forward. A second later, his face contorted in pain and he drew his free hand to his head and collapsed. All the boys rushed over to see if he was alright.

He popped up a moment later, but now he was the curly brown haired Crutchy, not the one from Conlon's world.

"Was that your Crutchy?" Spot nervously asked.

"Of course it was, ain't it obvious?"

Their banter was cut short by the swaying of Crutchy. "Whoa, there. Sit down." Jack put an arm through his and set him on the couch. "What just happened back there?"

"I…I dunno, Jack. I was somewhere like here, and the people called my name, but didn't seem ta recognize me. Den my head hurt real bad and I was back here again. Am I going crazy?" Crutchy looked around at the other boys standing around who half-heartedly laughed with him.

Spot stepped out of the circle. "Wese all glad youse alright, but Conlon and me gotta get goin'."

Conlon and Jack took their cue and departed from the Lodging House towards the Jacobs house.

The trip was thankfully uneventful. They got to the apartment and Jack left them there and headed back to Distribution. They walked up the stairs to the right door and knocked on it. Mrs. Jacobs opened it. Recognizing Spot, she let them in. She looked skeptically at Conlon. He introduced himself, which didn't seem to clear anything up. She briskly walked away in confusion as David entered the room and greeted them.

"Spot," He shook Spot's hand.

"Uh, Spot." David laughed.

"Wese just call him Conlon to keep things easier."

"Ah. Fair enough. It is nice to see you both again." He smiled. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Guess." Conlon said flatly.

David's eyes flicked nervously from one to the other. "Sorry. Uh, where do you wanna talk? Is my room alright?" They both nodded.

He led the way through the hallways. Before they got there, a small weight was flung against Spot's legs. "Hi, Spot." Les looked up from hugging his leg.

"Hey, Les. Shouldn't you be at school?"

"It's a Saturday!"

"Oh yeah. Den shouldn't you be out sellin'?" Spot joked.

David smacked him the arm. "Spot!"

Les laughed. "I ain't supposed to-"

"I AM NOT supposed to." David corrected.

"-go without David." Les finished and David sighed.

"It's nice to see ya Les, but wese gotta do some stuff." Spot gently pried Les off.

"We have to do some things." David said tight-lipped. Les ran off, leaving the room to the three of them. The oldest brother sat on the wooden chair at his desk, while the two others occupied the bed.

"So," David clapped his hands together. "What's been happening?"

Conlon looked at Spot, took a deep breath and did his best. "Well, this has only happened a few times, but some people 'ere seem ta switch wit da people of my world. Then they slip back."

David's brow furrowed. "Does this happen everywhere, or when both of you are in the same room?" They answered that they've always been together. He nodded in thought. "Alright. Conlon, you said yesterday that you saw an unnatural light before you appeared here?" He continued when Conlon nodded his head. "Well, I think that you were the only one to actually go through this rip in space, just you two can be in the same universe at the same time whilst everyone can be on only one or the other. And the universes know of this unbalance and are trying to sort it out be putting some people in the other version of New York since Conlon is missing, but it doesn't really work out."

The Spots just stared at him. "Well? It's just my hypothesis so far."

"It's genius, Dave." Spot spoke for the both of them.

Conlon leaned forward which made the bed squeak. "So, if I find the rip and go through it again, would that fix everything?"

David pursed his lips and rested his chin against clasped hands. "I believe so, but I no idea if it would be in the same place in our world."

Before anyone could say anything else, David cried out in pain. His hand shot up to his temple.

"David!" Spot jumped up. Dave put up his hand to keep him from coming any closer.

"I don't know how long this will last," he said through gritted teeth, "ask him what he knows. Find out everything; tell him everything if they're trying to fix this too. We can work together." David's knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor.

Conlon pulled Spot to the bed and got up himself. "Let me talk to him." Spot nodded. "Davey!" He bent over to help him up. This Davey was much taller, had straight dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Spot," he wheezed. "We need to talk. Before I go back. This has already happened to Race and Crutchie. I think I might understand what's going on." Conlon motioned for Spot to write this down. Davey continued as Spot grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil. "Jack talked to some of your Brooklyn boys and one said he saw you walk into an alleyway and a huge flash of light followed." Conlon led him to the bed as Spot took the desk chair, scribbling down what was said. "Then he said when he ran over to see if you were alright, everything was gone. The light and you." Davey looked over and saw Spot, just realizing he was there.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Spot. Of this universe. Only makes sense. This swap can only happen when you both are in close vicinity to each other."

"That's pretty much what we've gotten, too." Conlon added. "The David from this world is asking questions to whoever you were with."

"That's good. I was at the Lodging House with all the boys. Hope he gets something good."

"Since Dave was the only one in the room and we're both so close, do you think that's why you've lasted so long here?" Spot spoke up, noticing that he was still here.

Davey nodded. "If you want this to keep happening, I would do this more often." He said with a smile. "My guess to fix this is trying to find that tear and go back through it. The universe needs balance. Two Spot Conlons is too much ego for one universe to handle."

"Ay!" They both cried. They looked at each other and laughed until they heard a faint gasp. Davey had his jaw locked tight.

"I'm slipping back. Anything else you want to know?"

"Don't t'ink so. Just say I'm alright and wese working on it." Conlon said.

"Crutchie already took care of that. Take care Spot, and Spot. Come home soon." Davey held out his hand and Conlon took it. Davey let out a grunt of pain and slid to the floor and Conlon let go of his hand.

David shakily stood up and ran his fingers through his curly light brown hair.

He looked at the two of them and smiled. "I think I've got it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Total Word Count: 7,264**

"Whatcha got, David?" Spot leaned forward.

David sat gently down on the bed next to Conlon. "They pretty much have what we have gotten as well. They checked the alley this morning to see if it has reappeared yet. No luck, they think it might pop up somewhere in our Manhattan or Brooklyn, close to the bridge. We can all go check this afternoon, maybe take Jack." He looked in between the two for a reaction.

They looked at each other, and then turned to David with impressed expressions. "Sounds good ta me." Spot stood up. He gave the paper he tore off of the pad to Conlon, who folded it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

David led the way out to the street, saying good bye to his mother and explaining to Les why he couldn't come too.

The sky was slightly overcast, but it didn't smell like rain, so they should be fine. A light, cool wind blew, scattering the leaves and rustling their hair.

About halfway there, Conlon started humming a song to himself that Spot didn't recognize. Conlon looked sideways at Spot when he noticed that he was being watched. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Sorry, just don't know that song."

"You don't know this song? It's our song, its Brooklyn's song."

"Brooklyn doesn't have a song."

"Really? We came up wit it for the strike when we was all going to da rally." Conlon explained. "It's kinda a fight song. It's fun." He went back to humming it while Spot sulked alongside him. David covered up a laugh with a cough and his hand.

They got back to the Lodging House, to find it was empty. "Oh, duh. Everybody is out selling." David turned around and headed off to where Jack normally sells.

When they finally found Jack, he had two papes left and refused to leave until they were sold. "Youse barging on my business!" He said jokingly.

Lucky for him, two ladies walked by and bought the last of Jack's papes. "Alright, I'm free. What's up?"

"Well, I got to visit Conlon's world." David stated with his hands in his pockets.

Jack's eyes widened in confusion. "Whadya mean? Like Crutchy?" He searched the faces of the three standing in front of him.

"Just like that. I got to talk to you, well, you know what I mean." David gave a small laugh that Jack shared. "We think we know how to fix this."

Spot stepped forward and took up the story. "The portal, thing, only has one entrance and one exit, one in each universe. When Conlon entered through it, it switched so it can only be used from this side. We guess that once Conlon goes through it again, it will close for good." Spot crossed his arms and glanced towards David, checking to make sure he got everything.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Well, I guess that we have some searching to do."

"Should we split up?" Conlon suggested. "It'll make t'ings go fasta."

David affirmed. "That's a good idea. Spot and Jack, and then Conlon and I?"

"How will we know if the other group found sumthin'?" Jack put his weight on his right foot and crossed his arms.

The two Spots looked at each other hesitantly. "We have an idea." Conlon then whispered something to David. "Alright," He looked at Spot, "What did I tell Dave?"

Spot turned towards Conlon and closed his eyes. He was silent for a few moments. "You said, "His suspenders are way too brigh-hey!'" Spots eyes flew open.

The group grinned and Jack leaned to Spot and whispered something to him. They just looked at Conlon, waiting.

"Why don't you like my hair?" Conlon looked crossly at Jack.

"Sorry, had to say something." He gave a cocky smile and put his hat on. "Glad wese got communication settled, now, uh, call if guys find anything." He put an arm around Spot's shoulders and led him south to start by Brooklyn. David and Conlon headed east to start their sweep by Queens then going down towards the Bridge.

The groups popped their heads into every alleyway to check, with no luck so far.

When the sun began to dip into the ocean, the groups ended up at the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Did anyone see _anything_ weird?" David asked.

"Well, I saw a seagull that looked like it was reading a pape, but turns out the front page just had a picture of a seagull and it was probably one of his buddies." Jack mused.

The rest groaned and Spot head-butted a brick wall.

"Wha-" Conlon was cut off by Jack reeling towards the building. His back slammed against the brick. His hands were balled into tight fists and his arms tensed up.

David was immediately next to him. "Don't fight it, it doesn't really hurt. Just feels weird. You'll be back soon enough. Talk to the guys, see if I'm there." Jack took a deep breath and slid, relaxed, to the floor. The face that looked up at them was a different face. This Jack had a more square jaw and he had green eyes. His face was framed with dark brown, almost black hair.

He looked from person to person and smiled. "I was hoping I was going to next, almost felt left-out." Conlon helped him to his feet. "Hey, Spot. And other Spot." Jack held out his hand to Spot, who shook it. "Davey told me about youse."

"Hope it was good t'ings." Spot smirked.

"Mostly." Jack laughed at Spot's bewildered expression.

Jack turned to David. "You must be David."

He grinned and shook his hand. "Hello, Francis." He joked. Jack dropped his hand, and looked at David in misunderstanding. "It's alright. Everyone knows."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. My name is Jack, Jack Kelly." He looked from person to person.

"I'm sorry. That's not the real name of our Jack."

"Francis? Really? I see why he changed it. I was lucky I guess that I neva got dat problem." Jack laughed.

There was an awkward moment while the three pondered why this Jack wasn't previously Francis Sullivan.

Jack cleared his throat suddenly. "Well, have you found the rip yet?"

Conlon shook his head. "Not yet, going to look some more tomorrow."

"Good, good. One idea: Go to Brooklyn tonight and look on that side of the bridge. Wese been t'inking that da entrance is ova on your side, since that's where it was with Conlon." Jack put his hands in his pockets and smiled. "At least, that's what we think."

The other three looked at each other. "Sounds like a good idea. I think we all four should go, incase if it's not that simple." David added.

"I guess I'll go, too. Save the other one some walking." Jack laughed and let Spot lead the way.

"He'll appreciate it, dat bum." Spot snickered.

They made it about a block and a half before Jack began the process before changing back. He was doubled over, leaning against a lamppost. "Ack, I guess I'll see you soon. Don't get inta any more trouble while youse is here." He directed this towards Conlon.

Jack stood up and shook Spot's and David's hands. "Pleasure meetin' ya." He gave an almost forced grin before his legs fell out from under him.

"Is it weird that this ain't botherin' me much anymore?" Spot asked as he nonchalantly walked over to Jack to help him up. Jack swept the long sandy brown hair out of his face. Jack didn't even look phased as he brushed off his black pants and they all continued their way towards Brooklyn. He only asked why they were all going to Brooklyn. "In case something goes awry. Four 'eads is betta dan two." Jack nodded, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Is there anything you would like to say, Jack?" David leaned toward him, noticing the lack of sound from that edge of the group.

He looked up startled. "What? Oh, sorry. Just saw a lot of things over there. Makes one think."

"Well, we gots us a philosopher over 'ere, Conlon. What did your guys say to him?" Spot turned towards the dark haired boy.

Conlon's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know! They ain't really poets, maybe Mush, but none of dem is dat deep." He folded his arms across his chest and the dark red shirt.

"Nah, it's just the way they spoke about me, about him. How great he is. How highly they all thought of him. All these things that I'm not." He drew a big breath and David noticed that he was about to cry.

He sighed and moved to walk next to Jack. "Jack. You're the same person, even if you are different." He only paused a moment when he noticed that that didn't make much sense. "You are both similar people. We actually got to meet him here. The boys over there didn't know what to expect of you. None of them got to see any of us before, only Davey, but even he didn't get to meet you. Don't let expectations get you down. Make your own expectations." David draped an arm supportively around Jack's shoulders.

Jack wiped at his eyes. "I think we know who da poet is. Thanks, Dave." The four walked in silence until they got to the Brooklyn side of the Bridge.

"Follow me," Spot threw over his shoulder to the group. "I got boirds who still might be out." They had to sneak in, but be obvious enough to look like they belonged. "I'd rather not be stopped." Spot seemed like a different person home in Brooklyn. He walked with a gait that showed power. Since David was behind him, he couldn't see it, but he knew that Spot's eyes were everywhere.

Fortunately, the path to the Lodging House was quiet. There was no old man at the desk in the front. Rumor has it that the leader before Spot led the newsies to drive out the government from the house, saying they could take better care of them themselves. Since there was no imposing adult, bunks were free; you only expected to cough up when something needed fixing, a new boy needed papes to start out with, or to pay for coal when it got cold. And people say that Brooklyn is harsh.

"Alright. I think there is a few bunks open. Try not to wake anyone, see you in the morning." Spot fit into his leader role as he whispered the instructions.

Spot entered his private room and locked the door. He sat on the squeaky bed and took off his suspenders and hat to put them on the cabinet next to the headboard. He placed his boots under his bed and slipped off his plaid shirt, leaving on the white undershirt.

Just as he was about to lift the blankets up, he heard in his mind, _May I come in, Spot?_

He stood up and opened the door. Conlon stood there, looking lonely. "What's up?" He propped the door open wide enough for him to enter.

"What if it doesn't work tommora? What if there is no going back, that the portal was a onetime thing?" Conlon solemnly looked out Spots' window towards the horizon.

"Then you can stay 'ere. We gots room. I could always use someone like you, me, you…" He drifted off in thought.

Conlon gave a small laugh. "Thanks, I needed dat." He yawned and walked back to the door. _Goodnight._

 _Goodnight, see you in the morning._

The rest of the night was quiet, and there were no disturbances until morning.

Spot was the first one up, like normal. He wandered down to the bunks, whacking the cane on bedposts to wake up the older boys so they could get the younger ones up. He pulled Jack, David, and Conlon to the side. "I'll send the boys out, and meet you at the corner." He walked off to hurry the newsies along as Conlon and the Manhattanites got ready as well.

They met up at the street corner of the Lodging House. All of Spot's boys headed to Distribution and Spot watched until they all turned the corner. He then turned to Conlon. "Where to?" He asked him.

"Well, I was going ta Manhattan to talk ta Jack, so I guess head over to da Bridge." Conlon shrugged. They split up into the groups that they were in yesterday.

Since only Conlon had actually seen what they were looking for, a lot of clarifying questions were passed back and forth between the groups.

They were searching, nearing half an hour before anyone found anyone.

To everyone's surprise, it was Jack that found it. "Spot! Get Conlon! I got it!"

 _We got it. Three blocks north of the Bridge._

 _On our way. Don't go near it._ Conlon quickly responded.

"Theyse on their way." Spot informed Jack and slowly walked into the alley that Jack was standing. At the far end of the alley, was the portal. But a tear, or a rip, was a better description. It looked like someone sliced the air diagonally and a blueish light streamed through from the other side. The pattern of the rip changed like a flag flapping in a soft breeze. It was mesmerizing. The only thing that kept Jack from wandering into it was the strong grip of Spot's hand on his upper arm.

Two sets of footsteps thundered down the street and turned into the alley, and stopped short. "That's it alright." Conlon made his way to the front of the group. "Well, I guess this is 'goodbye'." In turn, they all shook hands before Conlon took his place just in front of the void.

"Good luck out dere," Spot wished as he stepped closer still.

With one breath, he leaned into the crack, and was shot towards the gang. With a yelp, they jumped out of the way. Conlon rolled onto his back with a groan. "Why didn't that work?" He strained to get up; rubbing the shoulder he fell on.

"I don't know. Is everything the same as last time?" David inquired.

"Other than you guys being here and that I'm in a different universe, yes."

"Would us being here be enough to make it not woirk?" Jack wondered.

"I doubt it, but we can try going around the corner." Spot offered.

Conlon shook his head. "Nah, I don't think that's it."

They all gathered around it again, keeping their distance. The group all thought of possible reasons that the portal wouldn't let Conlon through, but their proposals didn't get halfway out of their mouths before dying.

Conlon shoved his hands in his pockets and sulked over to the side. He kicked a can towards the tear, which rocketed back towards them. "Ow!" Jack continued to yell at Conlon. "You don't know what you're doing, do you?"

"Wait, I think I got something." David thought aloud.

"Shaddup!" Spot yelled when the other two took no notice of David's announcement. Jack and Conlon turned away from the argument.

He nodded towards Spot. "Thanks, Spot. One question: Do you have anything from this world? Like something in your pockets?" Conlon drew out his right hand which had the piece of paper that Spot had written on. He tossed it towards the rip, which bounced off of it. He turned back to David, waiting for his point. "You said the portal is only here to get you back to your world, to restore balance. If you brought something with you, the balance would still be off."

"So, youse saying all I had ta do was empty my pockets?!" David nodded. "So I'm good now?" David nodded again, this time a little more hesitantly. "Alright then." He dug around in his other pocket, pulled out the Irving Hall ticket stub and let it flutter to the ground.

Conlon approached the tear again. He stuck his arm in, and it went through. "Bye, guys." They all nodded, and Spot touched the brim of his cap. Conlon fell towards the light, and disappeared in a flash. The three turned their heads to block the sudden light.

After the litter in the alley settled back down, he was gone. Conlon and the portal with him.

"Well, that was…" David looked for the right word, "…sudden."

"I'm gonna miss the guy." Jack put his hat on his head and stepped into the sun-strewn street. Spot looked at the emptiness for one more second before following Jack and David.

They said their farewells and headed off their separate ways, Jack and David to Manhattan, and Spot deeper into Brooklyn.

Spot only bought a few papes and sold them quickly. He wandered back to the docks, content with his thoughts. Up on the Nest, Spot could see anyone approaching and far out into the horizon. He wondered which way he would look if he wanted to face Conlon, if there was any way specifically.

Slowly, his boys trickled back to play in the water as it got closer to evening. If anyone noticed that their leader was looking wistful, none of them said anything.

Once it was lights-out for the evening, none of the boys had heard Spot say a word since that morning.

Spot sat on his squeaky bed, hat on the cabinet, cane leaning against the wall.

An idea sparked in his head, and out of vain curiosity, he projected a thought:

 _You still there?_

The response was almost instantaneous:

 _Where would I go?_

 **The End! Thank you to everyone who stuck with me and hope to see you again (somewhere) soon.**


End file.
